A Summer in Strasbourg

By late-August, I was installed in Strasbourg and settled into my new apartment. Finally, I thought: things were looking up; I was an official resident of Frace with a mailing address and all! :-) As an added bonus, the weather was absolutely gorgeous - every day was sunny, warm, and dry - an ideal change of pace after a LONG spring/early-summer of rain, thunder, cloudy-skies and cool temperatures...

Without a television or radio, and without ANY KIND of cash-flow to buy (or to DO anything for that matter) I had a lot of time to think - to SIT AND THINK: ALONE.

Part of me was excited by the lack of "distractions." I wanted to eat up this time to "better myself" and to "make the most of my alone time." But, my nerves and my conscience were not at all put to ease by this "new opportunity to think." All the time "thinking," "strategizing/planning" and reading/preparing for work led to some serious worrying...I guess one has to clear one's mind sufficiently in order to think clearly (Better said in ancient times, perhaps: "If one's cup is already full, it may no longer hold the tea that pours-into it; one must EMPTY the cup before accepting tea" - paraphrasing my favorite Zen Koan.)

Most of all, I reflected upon past events, worried about future events (and cried) plenty about losing control in the moment. I felt defeated, rejected and ugly as a person knowing that "C" could part with me so easily, even though he continued to be on my mind NON-STOP. As such, it was extremely difficult to prevent myself from wasting time, asking inconsequential/stupid "girlish" questions like: "what REALLY went wrong?" or "What could I have done differently?" and worst of all: "What's WRONG with me?"

Beside my "emotional" troubles at the time, there were many practical work-related details that had not been clarified, which I knew I'd have to work-out (somehow? magically?) before September. For starters, although I had been offered a job with a private school, I had not received any "proof" or "guarentee" in writing. No contract, no time-table -no specifications whatsoever - had been given to me; so not only had I NO IDEA what sort of "program" to invent with all the reading I had been doing (given the massive load of books and notes on "religious culture" that were on loan to me), but I was beginning to get nervous that I was being played...who knew? (My -French-born- father seemed to think he "knew," and subsequentially worried a lot FOR ME, insisting that it was a dog-eat-dog, competitive and heartless working world in France, therefore meaning that "anything goes.") He had reason to think I had already lost the deal, lost the job, to someone more suitable/that is, suited to teach religious culture, or, in the very least, to someone who was a NATIVE French-speaker!

What made things even worse was my inability to MAKE MONEY/to be PRODUCTIVE. Money is independence, after all, which I knew I had not yet attained, despite how far I had come. That is, in having to ask my family for financial help in order to open a French bank-account (which required a deposit of 100euros), to pay for my apartment deposit and last month's rent, I sank my confidence to a new, EXTREME, LOW.
Even skipping meals, spending zilch on outings and posessions wouldn't help me at this point, and my only "personal source of income" (to buy minimal groceries) was my American credit card (which btw charges you international-service fees EVERY time you use the card abroad!) all of which I was not too proud of...

But I knew that I couldn't let off to others just HOW defeated I was feeling, for their sake, and my own. Indeed, reasonably-speaking (leaving all emotions aside) I knew I hadn't REALLY been defeated just yet! The little energizer bunny inside of me still had SOME BATTERY JUICE! And, if no one else could believe in me, given my surmounted troubles, I would HAVE to believe in myself...

Realizing that I couldn't let myself sit around feeling so low, I would HAVE TO BE ACTIVE in order to feel better about myself...so, to kill 2 birds with 1 stone, (to make some money WHILE staying active) I resolved within the first week of my stay that I would set myself on finding a full-time job waitressing/bussing tables. Considering my EXTENSIVE 8-year expeience waitressing, my semi-bilingual capacities, and the sheer abundance of restaurrants in the city, I thought I'd have a chance! (BTW: the advantage of working for the restaurant business abroad, I knew, was that it could be managed full-time during the (still flourishing) summer-tourist season, then part-time during the cooler (non-tourist) season, only to be followed by a Christmas-rush.) To aid my search by foot through the city, I created a somewhat generalized cover letter, and a service-oriented CV to distribute to twenty-something restaurants, bars and ice-cream cafes.

In the end, I heard back from not a ONE of them! But I was lucky to meet with a kind restaurant-owner/manager, who sat down with me on the spot one day, to explain the difficulties in August-hiring...the summer tourist-season was ALMOST over, and most positions were already filled, especially given the economic crisis. He also told me that most places would not even consider hiring workers if they were not dedicated to working full-time, all year-round, let alone hiring a "teacher." Good to know.

I planned to plug-along, nevertheless, hoping to hit upon something; after all, lucky-timing, persistance, and confidence USUALLY does the trick, and had worked like a charm in the past! :-) Before plugging-along, I'd just have to fix a couple of details on my CV, taking into consideration the advice I had been given, and since I lived about 5 mins walking-distance to the Bibliotheque Nationale et Universitaire, I thought I could make prints over there. I looked online about the possibility of obtaining a one-day library pass, and depending on the quality of the library, I'd decide whether or not I'd register for a monthly-pass, in order to use their facilities/printers/photocopiers, and also to have a quiet, resourceful place to read and to meet people...

To my surprise though, it was there - at the LIBRARY - where I had confronted the biggest and worst of hassles yet. In fact, it is thanks to the BNU "service employees" that I was able to develop a twisted/negative perception about the French and about my chances of "making it" in France...

A funny, surreal story about the library:

I bought a 1-day "full-access" pass at the library front-desk for 3euros. Receipt in hand, I proceeded to wander around, just to check it out at first; after all, it was a very fine, and well-equipped and reputable library with ornate, lovely architecture inside and out! Finally, upon arriving at the 3rd floor, I noticed the computer room, and thought I'd get to work, yet, when trying to open the door (several times) I realized it was ::LOCKED::

Luckily, someone was exiting the room just as I was (trying) to enter, at which point I asked if the computers were freely-accessible, (to which the man at the door said "yes of course.")

Proceeding forward into the computer room, thinking nothing of the secure-door system, there was a separate desk/office-space to the corner, where I'd ask for a sign-in.

Immediately CONFUSED, the woman VERY RUDELY asked me "if you don't have a pass-code, HOW DID YOU GET INTO THE ROOM?!?"

Calmly at first, I explained that someone had LET me in the door, simultaneously passing her my receipt, assuring her that "I paid to use the library, including the computer center and printers..."

Now yelling, the woman asked me for my "PASS." "WHERE IS YOUR PASS? YOU HAVE A PASS!"

Now stumbling in French, (out of MERE SHOCK) I told her that I had not RECEIVED a "pass" and that I had ONLY receievd a RECEIPT..."Look here...my receipt!"

The woman THREW my receipt, PICKED up the phone, and started dialing the front desk. "Good, I thought...she'll see I'm not MAKING THIS UP." (After all...who the HELL would try to "cheat" the library out of 3 euros anyways?)

Allegedly, the person at the front desk claimed to have given me some kind of "PASS" (a plastic card with a magnetic strip and passcode on it), which was NOT the answer I had expected to hear, knowing very well that I had not been GIVEN such a pass...

Before she could hang up the phone, I asked her if she could merely give me a temporary log-in name, JUST so that I could print out a couple pages of word documents that were stored on my USB...a simple enough task, one should think (after all, throughout ALL of my univeristy-library experience -in the States- there was always a way to avoid formalities.

Yet between my (overly-simplied?) suggestion/question, and the bit of information she had received in making her phone call to the front desk, I suppose her "suspicions" were confimed -INSISTING that I had the pass "SOMEWHERE!!"

I SHIT YOU NOT) at this point, the desk-lady took my wallet from my hands (which is moreso a Peruvian change-purse) and DUMPED it out on the desk...

WIDE-EYED, CONFUSED -and now REALLY PISSED OFF<---I reacted very poorly...
In broken, shakey French, I yelled "LADY! I DO NOT HAVE THE FUCKING PASS! I PAID FOR ENTRANCE AND I WANT A PASSCODE TO USE THE FUCKING COMPUTER! CAN YOU DO THIS FOR ME OR NOT?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!"

Yet instead of replying to my...request...she picked up the phone, and whispered something quietly...I couldn't make out what she was saying...

After hanging up the phone with a surprising amount of force (especially given the fact that we were STILL in a library, and not some middle-school play-scape) she implored: "FOLLOW ME," and...so I followed....

Bringing me downstairs, via back-stairwell-access, she escorted me outside of her "terrain," passing me ("the problem girl") to yet another desk...

When I was told that I'd have to pay again to use the computers, I told them exactly what I was feeling, except this time in English, very clearly:

"You are all CRAZY! I didn't receive a pass, and ALL I wanted to do was use the computers here, but you're all SO incompetant, lazy and stupid that I can't even stay one more moment! GOODBYE!"

Perhaps I over-reacted, but in all honesty, there's no telling just how strange the situation was in real-time; between the woman's facial expressions, annoyed hand mannerisms, suspicious-whispering, and BALLSY wallet-grabbing, you would have thought I was trying to break-in to a bank vault!

Instead of finding another library, I tried to track down an office-space of sorts (not knowing if they even existed in France) so that I continue the job search - same day - without wasting much more time. And in any case, I was all dressed-up (in heels, a skirt and a fine blouse) ready-to-go. Yet, after walking around (later resorting to BIKING around) in search for a store, I was too sweaty, too tired, and way too "LOW" psychologically-speaking, to continue. I had asked 3 cops, and a hand-full of persons on the street where I might be able to print out documents...but NO ONE KNEW! I couldn't think for the life of me WHY no one knew...you'd think printing documents would be much simpler...!

So, I started to worry that my French wasn't good enough, and justified peoples' reactions, (mainly shrugging me off) thinking that they had not understood what I had been asking for...was it my accent? Did I walk around with a "dumb confused look" ?)

After thinking about my day's "adventure" more generally, I defensively resorted to defining the average French person on the street to be an ASSHOLE; after all, I was USED to people being a BIT more...helpful? (And coming from Boston/NEW ENGLAND...that's not saying too much!)

I put off the waitressing-job search and resigned to my balcony-space, (which I had cleared of spider-webs galore, dead-plants, tools, piles of LOOSE dirt and potting soil, and rotten who-knows-what). There, on that balcony at Rue de Bitche, I created my own "get-away." I spent my mornings there over coffe, baguettes and butter, my late-afternoons, over salad, fruit, water and tea, and my late evenings over wine, left-over salad and pasta: (all the very cheapest products in France, believe it or not! NUMNUM!) In the very least, I knew I'd avoid further negative interactions "out there." Yet, in resigning to this space, I knew I'd have to wait-out the month of August, completely, forgetting my dreams to travel France/go camping that summer.

Aside from my long hours sitting out on the balcony, "waiting through" the late-summer days of August, I did do a LOT of bicyling and running...free activities: good for the mind, and good for the body! I'll explain more of that in the next blog entry...

KEY WORDS: BNU, French servitude, Travelling abroad, Living Abroad, Living in France, Working in Strasbourg, Applying for jobs in Strasbourg, Breaking up is hard to do